


A Marriage of Convenience

by robotjellyfish



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ABO, Altean lance, Arranged Marriage AU, Asexual Character, M/M, abo is not a major part of the fic really I'm using it more as a plot device, shance, shiro is pretty much human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 17:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12686346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotjellyfish/pseuds/robotjellyfish
Summary: In recent years the Galra have been gaining in brutality and strength, their threat can no longer be ignored. The kingdom of Altea would be a valuable, powerful ally in the fight against the Galra, but for a kingdom who have been at peace for so long joining a war is not to be taken lightly.The kingdom of Lione leads the fight against the Galra, but they cannot do it alone. As the heir to the kingdom of Lione it falls to Shiro to secure an alliance with Altea, and nothing quite seals an alliance like a marriage...to the young Altean Prince, Lance.





	A Marriage of Convenience

**Author's Note:**

> So here's my piece for the Shance Big Bang. Unfortunately I have been such a flake with this event and the fic turned into something bigger than I planned so this is far from finished, but here's chapter one. Honestly I am not 100% sure about this even now but I hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to more.

“But what does this outfit say?” Lance questioned, his voice high and strained as he tugged at the hem of the formal tunic he wore, worrying more creases into it. He'd already tried on what seemed to be every single item of clothing in his wardrobe, in various combinations, but nothing seemed to satisfy him.

  


“I didn't know clothes could talk,” Allura replied smartly with a wicked grin, doing an admirable job of keeping the true irritation out of her voice. She'd been watching her younger brother’s fashion show for most of the morning and so far he'd worn the same tunic paired with the same trousers twice, which Lance didn't seem to have noticed. She was getting tired.

  


“Allura,” he whined imploringly, his shoulders slumped, his face the very picture of misery.

  


Allura took a deep breath, and smiled.

  


“What exactly is it that you'd like your clothes to say, anyway?” she asked, against her better judgement. Lance had gone back to fiddling with the hem of his tunic. He'd end up wearing holes into his clothes at this rate.

  


“They need to say that I’m not trying too hard, or trying to show off, so nothing too fancy, but I still need to look effortlessly cool, sexy, and sophisticated. I want to sweep him off his feet with one look, but still appear approachable, and not full of myself,” Lance rambled with a big, wide sweep of his arms. Allura knew she shouldn't have asked, she seriously doubted out outfit could say all that. But this was Lance.

  


“I just...really want to make a good first impression,” he added in a small voice, his arms dropping heavily to his sides.

  


Allura's smile softened. Yes, this was Lance, her foolish little brother who talked big yet was one of the most sensitive, gentle souls she knew, and right now he was being sucked in by a whirlpool of anxiety and doubt.

  


The whole situation was a rather unusual one, one they had never had to prepare for before. She found it difficult to find the words to comfort him.

  


“How do you do it?” Lance turned to her desperately eyes wide and pleading.

  


“Do what?” Allura asked blinking in confusion worried she had spaced out and missed something.

  


“Do the whole effortlessly gorgeous thing without even trying,” Lance said gesturing towards her with an absent wave of his hand.

  


“You've never seem to care about how you look, nor do you put as much effort into your appearance as me, and yet you always look stunning! It’s not fair!” He groaned.

  


“How rude!” Allura huffed crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. She held the look for only a moment before a smile broke it.

  


“Well, you do have a point. No one puts as much effort into their appearance as you, baby brother,” she teased. Reaching towards him she gave his cute little upturned nose a poke for good measure. Lance went cross eyed at that, making her laugh.

  


“Now come here. Settle down for a moment so I can fix your hair,” she beckoned him over towards the large vanity table to her right, snatching up a comb when she was close enough and wielding it almost threateningly. She had no answer for his question, and needed a distraction.

  


“My hair?! What's wrong with my hair?! It's a mess isn't it? It looks awful!? I should wash it again. I don't have time to wash it again!” Lance moaned, trudging over to the vanity table, falling dramatically onto the big, poofy stool in front of it as if Allura had just told him the world was ending.

  


“Relax, it's nothing a good combing won't fix,” Allura cheered, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze she pulled him upright forcing him to sit straight.

  


Lance slumped stubbornly the moment she let go, his gaze turned away from the large mirror in front of him to fix down on his lap instead. Allura decided against reprimanding him for his terrible posture for now to allow him a few moments to sulk.

  


She hummed softly to herself as she started to comb his hair, a song that her mother used to sing to her when she was a child, and a song she sang to Lance when they were younger.

  


“There now, this isn't so bad,” Allura mused to herself as if she were talking about his hair. She could already feel Lance relax under her ministrations as she tamed his fluffy, overly worried hair back into submission. Lance had run his fingers through it so many times the mess was beyond 'bed head' levels.

  


Allura continued to run the comb through the soft, bright white hair even after she'd gotten it back into it's usual style knowing the action would sooth him.

  


“Allura, do you think he’ll like me?” Lance asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  


“I’m sure he will. How could he resist your charm?” She said confidently, running the comb through his hair one final time before setting it down.

  


“Just maybe keep the bad pick-up lines to a minimum,” she added working her fingers through his hair to get the ends to curl just right.

  


“My pick-up lines are not bad!” His head snapped up, shooting a glare at Allura's reflection behind him in the mirror. Allura laughed.

  


“Close your eyes,” she ordered, ignoring his glare, grabbing the bottle of hair spray instead. Lance did as he was told, though his mouth remained fixed in a haughty line. Allura gave his hair a good spray, scrunching her fingers through his locks one final time to set the style.

  


“There, your hair is saved,” she said proudly, her hands falling to his shoulders so he could admire her work.

  


“Hmm, I suppose it'll do,” he scowled at his reflection critically earning a gasp from Allura, and a hard smack to the shoulder.

  


“It’s perfect and you know it!” She retorted, sticking her tongue out at the mirror. Lance responded by doing the same, both their faces scrunched up, poking their tongues out as far as they would go. They held the expression for only a few moments before they both broke into fits of laughter. They looked ridiculous.

  


“Thank you Allura, it’s perfect,” Lance smiled at the mirror once he'd gotten control over his giggles.

  


“Then again it is me, so it’s not like it’s hard to obtain this level perfection.” He added with a sly grin earning another smack from Allura.

  


“Now let’s get another look at that outfit, shall we,” she said briskly, urging him to stand up again which Lance did with an air of great inconvenience.

  


“I've come to the realisation that everything I own looks hideous. It's hopeless,” he exclaimed dramatically with a roll of his eyes. Lance was being difficult but it was nothing Allura wasn’t used to.

  


“Nonsense,” she said, dismissing his concerns she walked around him in a slow circle, her eyes scanning him critically from every angle. The tunic had a high collar, blue trimmed with a decorative gold around the collar and short sleeves. It was cinched in at the waist with a slim gold belt, and underneath it he wore a simple white shirt. A pair of black pants clung to his long, slender legs making him look taller. Matched with it were a pair of white, boots that reached just below his knees, hugging his calves, and also trimmed with gold.

  


“This outfit flatters your figure, you look very manly and confident. The blue brings out your eyes, and the gold compliments your skin tone.” Allura delivered her assessment of the outfit in a matter of fact manner as she smoothed out the wrinkles with her hand, glad that the fine Altean fabric didn’t crease badly.

  


“Well blue _is_ my colour,” Lance agreed, batting her fussing hand away so he could fix the rest of the outfit himself.

  


Allura smirked to herself and stepped back knowing she had said the right thing, and that Lance’s mind was now made up. She knew just how to manipulate her brother when needed, especially when it came to appealing to his vanity. Besides, the outfit did look good on him. He had obviously picked it out for a reason, he was just too worked up to see it.

  


Lance straightened his collar, pushed his shoulders back, and stood proud and tall - the very picture of a Prince. A moment later he slumped.

  


“I don’t know, are you really sure this isn't too much? I don’t want him thinking I’m some stuck up noble.” Lance worried.

  


Allura resisted the urge to scream. She took a deep breath.

  


“Lance you look perfectly fine,” she said clapping both hands on his shoulders, pushing them back forcing him to stand up straight again.

  


Lance sighed turning his head to the side to avoid her earnest gaze.

  


“It’s just… I want him to like me, especially since I’m going to be lying to him right from the start,” he muttered a scowl creasing his brow.

  


“Lance,” she said, whether in warning or sympathy she wasn’t entirely sure. Her grip on his shoulders tightened a scowl marring her own features.

  


“Ouch, Allura!” Lance winced attempting to twist out of her grasp

  


“Sorry,” she said quickly, loosening her grip but not letting go. She stepped closer instead, pushing herself up on her tip-toes to press their foreheads together.

  


“I know you want to tell him, and I agree that omitting the truth from him is not the best decision. Your endotype doesn't make you any less a Prince of Altea. Father is only trying to protect you…” she trailed off, the argument sounding weak even to her own ears. There were far too many complications to contend with.  

  


“He loves you. He does, and he is trying to protect you, but he has the council to contend with-”

  


“Father is only worried about protecting the crown,” Lance interrupted spitefully.

  


“Lance!” Allura admonished, giving his shoulders another squeeze, but she couldn’t stay mad at him, not with that lost, hopeless look in his eyes.

  


“The council may have some sway, but they are nothing but a bunch of stuffy old men and women that hold tight to antiquated ideas, they are not infallible. Right now they are still dragging their feet over joining the war even after Balmera-” Allura choked on the word, her hands trembling against Lance’s shoulders.

  


Lance felt a stab of pain twist his heart, despite his anger. He knew what Balmera meant, to Allura especially. He tilted his head forward, pressing his forehead against hers. Allura smiled.

  


“Once the arrangements for the alliance has been finalised I will speak to Father again, make him see sense. He will come around,” she promised, tilting her head to press their noses together, making Lance scrunch up his face comically as he tried to pull away from her.

  


“I’d like to tell him the truth _before_ we get married. I mean he's going to find out the truth sooner or later anyway. It would be nice if we could start off our life together without any secrets,” Lance grumbled, relenting. He leaned into Allura, posture slumped and eyes closed.

  


“I know. But for now let’s proceed as per Father’s orders,” she said diplomatically, giving Lance’s shoulders a final gentle squeeze before stepping away.

  


“It’s almost time for us to meet our guests, come on,” she ushered shooing him back to the vanity table so Lance could finish getting ready.

  


“Now, since I’m such a good big sister, and spent all day helping you get ready, let me borrow your eye liner,” she said snatching said eye liner from the table before Lance could reply.

  


“Hey that’s my best one!” He squawked, making a grab for it but Allura held it out of reach and pulled a face at him.

  


They finished getting ready together, with Allura stealing Lance’s make up, much to his chagrin, so that she too looked presentable. She hadn't any time to get ready herself after helping him, so really it was the least he could do.

  


= = = = =

  


“You could at least pretend to be happy,” Keith said sharply, fixing Shiro with a stern glare. From across the carriage Shiro glowered at him, his scowl deepening.

  


“But I’m not happy,” he replied sullenly.

  


Keith took a deep breath, closing his eyes no doubt holding back some snappy retort.

  


“I understand your frustration but this is for the benefit of both your kingdoms, and to finally stop the advance of the Galra,” Keith said, calmly parroting the words Shiro’s father had used to lecture him with repeatedly, which only soured Shiro’s mood further.

  


“How is handing over power of my kingdom to these Alteans under the guise of an ‘alliance’ for the good of both our kingdoms? We’re expected to ally with them, teach them the finer points of warfare, and win this war against the Galra, yet because their Kingdom is larger we're expected to just allow Lione to be swallowed by them through this marriage.” Shiro spat out the final word, showing his very contempt for the idea. He crossed his arms over his chest, and hunched in his seat angrily.

  


“I agree that it’s not exactly fair, but the conditions of this alliance aren’t set in stone. I’m sure once we obtain some results in battle we’ll be able to negotiate better terms, and if you can earn some favour with the Prince that will no doubt help.”

  


“Since when have you been working for the Alteans?”

  


“I’m not working for the Alteans you ass. I’m just ensuring we don't end up in a war with the Galra _and_ the Alteans.” Keith said sharply making Shiro squirm at the truth of the other man's words.

  


The alliance was important to both kingdoms, and nothing sealed an alliance faster, and with more certainty than a marriage.

  


The Galra had been gaining more power lately, and growing more aggressive in their thirst to obtain more. Many small nations had already fallen, and countless had lost their lives. Altea, the most sizeable threat left to the Galra, had the resources and numbers but not the knowledge of war. Shiro’s home, Lione, may have been small but had a long history of internal conflict, and so they knew their way around a battle. Their knowledge, refined through hundreds of years of fighting between themselves, while also protecting their lands from outside forces, was deeply ingrained in every citizen. While Lione may be at peace now, a history of war was not one that was forgotten so easily. A solid alliance between two such strong kingdoms, with the knowledge and resources needed, was the best chance the world had to prevent total Galra rule.

  


“But why does it have to involve a marriage to an obnoxious royal Alpha? He’s going to be impossible.” Shiro whined, knowing he sounded like a child but not caring in that moment, only Keith could hear him.

  


“You should know better than anyone not to judge people by appearance, or endotypes,” Keith retorted disapprovingly. Shiro sank further into his seat, shamefaced, but did not apologise.

  


“At least give him a chance, you haven’t even met the guy yet,” Keith reasoned. Shiro huffed, pointedly avoiding Keith's eye.

  


“Besides if he’s that awful I can always assassinate him and make it look like the Galra did it,” Keith smirked.

  


“Keith!” Shiro admonished, looking only briefly scandalized before he burst out laughing, his hand pressed over his mouth.

  


“Weren’t you saying a moment ago that we should try to _avoid_ a war with Altea?”

  


“Which is why I said I’ll make it look like the Galra did it, I won’t get caught.” Keith answered haughtily, his head held high.

  


Shiro smiled and shook his head.

  


“I appreciate the sentiment but you can’t do that. I'll find a way to make this work,” Shiro said gently. He was still very anxious about everything but laughing like that had helped shake off some of his frustration.  

  


Keith smiled. “That’s better,” he muttered to himself.

  


The rest of the carriage ride passed silently between the two men, Shiro’s posture getting stiffer and straighter the closer they got to the Altean castle. The very air of the Kingdom crackled with something entirely different compared to home. In one sense it felt lighter, almost carefree, the war with the Galra not having touched the prosperous kingdom just yet, but there was also a buzz of something else, something intimidating. Maybe it was the magic, that the Alteans called alchemy, that they were so proud of. It put both of them on edge.

  


It grew thicker, and more alive the close they got to the castle, pulsing like the beat of a heart. It ran up Shiro's spine making him shiver and made him want to turn tail and run.

  


“Shiro relax,” Keith warned as the carriage made its way through the large, ornate golden gates and up the winding driveway.

  


Shiro shot him a withering look. Keith was just as tense.

  


Even after passing through the gate their journey was not over yet. The driveway was long, and the coach driver seemed in no hurry, drawing out the apprehension for the two in the carriage even more.

  


“How big are these grounds?” Keith hissed as the carriage kept going. He would have been inclined to believe they were going around in circles had he not been able to see out the window.

  


Shiro, tight lipped with growing nerves, said nothing in reply.

  


The carriage eventually drew to a smooth stop, though the air still pulsed around them giving everything a sense of movement, or maybe it was just the blood pumping in his ears. Shiro couldn’t be sure.

  


Keith stood first, moving stiffly to guard the door as it opened. He surveyed the area, violet eyes scanning the immediate vicinity warily before he descended the steps, waiting at the bottom of them tall and at attention, his gaze fixed resolutely ahead.

  


The air sparked as the Altean guards caught sight of him. Although they had been warned, nothing could quite prepare someone for a half Galran guard. Keith was small for a Galra but his purple mottled skin stood out like a beacon even when only his face was visible. The pale human flesh marred by purple blotches was difficult to hide. Small fluffy ears blended with his shaggy hair for the most part, but could not be hidden completely as they twitched anxiously at the side of his head.

  


The Altean guards waiting to meet them tensed, the grip on their weapons tightening, now on high alert. Keith, as always, ignored it.

  


Shiro descended the steps soon after him, standing purposefully at Keith's side and staring down at the Altean guards in a way that he hoped wasn’t too challenging. Despite his earlier complaining he didn’t want to start an incident the moment they arrived.

  


“Sir Shirogane, I’m glad you’ve arrived safely. I trust your journey went well?” One of the guards spoke with a respectful bow.

  


“It was a pleasant journey, thank you.” Shiro answered, relaxing his stern glare now that the guards didn’t look as if they were about to stab Keith, although they were still clearly quite tense.

  


“Please follow me,” the guard bowed again before turning away to lead the way towards the castle doors. Shiro and Keith fell in step behind him while the remaining Altean guard brought up the rear. Suddenly Shiro felt like a prisoner being lead to his cell, though he knew that wasn’t their intention. He curled a hand into a fist, digging his nails into his palm to stop himself from lashing out.

  


Keith took a step closer to him, bumping into him with his shoulder reassuring him that he wasn't alone. That he was safe. Shiro smiled weakly, giving a brisk nod to show that he was ok. He hated being surrounded and lead off like this but it was just a formality, all he had to do was get to the door. Taking a deep breath Shiro pushed his shoulders back, setting them in a straight line he walked tall and confident.

  


_'Don't show any weakness, not even to your allies'_

  


“Good afternoon Sir Shirogane it’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” a smartly dressed, very enthusiastic man greeted them at the door. Shiro was so distracted the bright orange moustache on the man's top lip, that wiggled with every word, that he couldn’t help but openly stare.

  


“Uh-” He muttered. Very eloquent. A sharp jab in his side from Keith’s elbow helped Shiro find his words again.

  


“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Sir. You must be Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, the royal advisor,” Shiro greeted formally, holding out his left, flesh hand keeping the shiny metal prosthetic pinned to his side.

  


“Oh my no need to address me by my full name, Coran will do just fine,” the man chuckled kindly. Grabbing Shiro's hand in both his own he shook it firmly, with enough force to almost jerk Shiro's shoulder out of it's socket.

  


“And you must be Keith. My, my, you really do have Galra blood in you, don’t you,” Coran turned his attention to Keith, looking down at him with a scrutinizing stare that wasn’t entirely unfriendly, but probing in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable.

  


“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sir,” Keith answered with a bow, barely flinching at the look in Coran’s eyes. The intense curiosity was something he was used to as well, and it was more welcome than the open looks of hostility his appearance usual drew.

  


“Come this way, the royal family will be with you shortly. Would you like some tea and cake while you wait?” Corn offered as he bustled down the corridor, Shiro and Keith having to follow at a brisk walk to keep up with his long, hurried strides.

  


“Just some tea for now,”Shiro answered. While the prospect of food was welcome he didn’t want to be stuffing his face with cake when he first met his husband to be and the rest of the royal family.

  


“Good good, probably a better idea to enjoy some cake when everyone's all together, an excellent suggestion Sir Shirogane.” Coran said brightly, not sounding the least bit out of breath despite his quick pace.

  


They were shown to a large, beautifully decorated lounge with two large plush sofas facing each other across a glass coffee table in the middle of the room.

  


“Please take a seat, I’ll go announce your arrival! Shan't keep you waiting too long.” Coran cheered before bustling out of the room again, leaving Shiro and Keith alone.

  


“Well he seemed pleasant,” Keith commented.

  


“He didn’t shake your hand.” Shiro grumbled disapprovingly, although apart from that slight Shiro had to admit the man seemed nice enough.

  


“I’ve had worse, you know that. Although he did kinda look like he wanted to dissect me.” Keith gave a small shudder.

  


“Actually I think I remember father mentioning the royal advisor was also a keen alchemist,” Shiro mumbled. Keith paled, causing Shiro to laugh.

  


His teasing of Keith was interrupted by a knock on the door, a maid announcing her arrival before she let herself into the room carrying a silver tray.

  


She shuffled towards the coffee table, her head bowed, and set the tray down with such care that she didn’t make a single sound. With the tray safely deposited she turned to Shiro, lifting her head, but keeping her gaze lowered, not quite meeting his eye in a mark of deference.

  


“I wasn’t sure what you would like but I bought some Altean herbal tea that is well known for it's stress relieving properties. I thought it might help after your long journey, but if there is something else you would prefer please let me know.”

  


“Herbal tea is fine. Thank you.” Shiro smiled awkwardly. He always felt a little uncomfortable being waited on.

  


The maid did not return the smile though her posture seemed to relax somewhat as she turned back to the tea, filling two of the fine china cups with a steaming, shimmering gold liquid. Was tea meant to glitter? Shiro wasn't so sure.

  


Her task complete, the maid gave another bow before leaving, just as silently as she’d arrived.

  


Shiro ignored the sparkling tea. Keith, however, cautiously reached for a cup, his thirst, and curiosity getting the better of him. He held the cup with some trepidation, not sure if the strange glittering tea, or the fact that the single fancy cup probably cost more than his life savings scared him more. He took a cautious sip, shuddering at the way the tea sparked on his tongue and lips making his hair, and ears, stand on end. It wasn't bad, but it even tasted sparkly. Was tea supposed to taste sparkly? He took another sip, moving to stand by the arm of one of the sofas, in a position that gave him a clear view of the door and the windows, observing the room with watchful eyes.

  


Shiro, too restless to sit, chose to pace the room, ignoring the soft, inviting sofa. He'd been locked in a bumpy carriage for hours after all, he was grateful for the chance to stretch his legs. Even with his long strides it took several steps for him to circle the room just once.

  


“It's quite...nice here,” Shiro commented after a few moments of silence, broken only by his own footsteps, and the sound Keith sipping on the unusual tea.

  


“It is very luxurious,” Keith agreed with a nod, taking in the lavish display of expensive works of art that decorated the room with a slow sweep of his eyes. The extravagant displays of wealth were beautiful, but it was a cold beauty. There were no personal touches, no signs that anything in the room meant anything to the people who lived here, nothing that told him anything about them. Everything was so cleanly on display that it felt like they too were being put on show, being watched.

  


“Altea has done well for itself,” Shiro answered absently. The Kingdom had been free from war or any kind of conflict until now, leaving the people to focus more on art and technology. Altea had thrived through its art and culture.

  


Shiro stopped his pacing by a large vase, stood on a small table near a tall window. The sunlight shone off the dark lacquered surface, highlighting the gold and bronze pattern that adorned it. It was so elaborate that Shiro was sure the cost alone could feed the people of Lione for a month, he took a quick step away, not trusting himself to get too close. They definitely couldn't afford to replace that.

  


Several more long, tense moments of silence passed, neither of the two men sure what to do or say lest someone really was listening. A knock on the door echoed with a boom, making Shiro jump. Keith quickly set his half finished cup of tea down, moving back so he was stood closer to the wall, stiff and to attention, and hopefully out of the way.

  


Shiro stood in the middle of the room, near the coffee table, feeling like an animal caught in the trap. Should he sit? Stay standing? Before he could come to a decision, and without any further announcement the door swung open.

  


“The King has arrived,” a maid announced from the doorway, her head bowed. She stepped into the room, pushing both doors fully open she stepped to the side, with a deep bow as a larger, more imposing figure filled the doorway. The King was no taller than Shiro, his build, while broad, lacking the muscle definition Shiro had, yet the King held himself in such a way that it made him appear much larger, and more intimidating. He strode into the room, poised and unhurried, with all the assurance of someone who knew the entire world would wait for them. He walked tall and firm, back straight, head held high, steps heavy and purposeful on the plush carpet.

  


Shiro was left in no doubt as to who was in charge.

  


“Good evening Sir Shirogane. It is a pleasure to meet you in person at last,” he greeted with a warm, open smile.

  


Shiro bowed stiffly, his arms pinned to his sides, not sure if he should offer a hand. The King stopped in front of him and made no move to extend his so Shiro figured it was probably a no-no. He bowed deeper instead.

  


“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your Majesty. Thank you for your hospitality.” Shiro knew his voice sounded robotic but he could do nothing to prevent it. He suddenly felt very small, and way out of his depth. The King's aura was so heavy it was almost suffocating. It weighed down on Shiro, encouraging him to bow his head, to kneel, to submit completely. His scent was raw power, nothing specific that Shiro could put a name too, but scent that exuded strength.

  


It made Shiro shiver, made his stomach tie in knots. Was this what it would feel like being in the presence of all Royal Alphas?

  


“And this is my personal guard, Keith Kogane,” Shiro straightened jerking his hand sharply to the side to indicate Keith. Keith bowed in response but didn't dare speak directly to the King.

  


“Ah yes so this is Keith? So he really is part Galra, fascinating,” Alfor stared at Keith for a moment before looking away with a chuckle.

  


Shiro saw the twitch of irritation in the corner of Keith’s eye, not sure if he should be offended by the King’s comment or not. Shiro managed a weak smile at that. He couldn't help but think how much Keith had grown. A while ago Keith would have let his anger guide him, King or no.

  


“Come now, sit, you’ve had a long journey,” Alfor said to Shiro, indicating the sofa with a graceful sweep of his hand.

  


Shiro gave one sharp nod and fell heavily into the nearest seat on the nearest sofa. Alfor calmly strode over to the other sofa sitting across from Shiro so that the coffee table, and tea tray stood between them.

  


There was an awkward moment of stillness as Shiro stared at the tea pot wondering if he should offer Alfor some tea or not. There were no more cups but Shiro hadn't touched his tea. Should he offer the King that one? Luckily, before Shiro could make a fool of himself two maids approached, one sweeping up the used tray, the other setting down a new tray with a fresh pot of tea and clean cups.

  


Shiro sat back in relief. Well that was one less thing to worry about.

  


The maid who'd left the tray quietly filled the four cups, why four Shiro did not dare ask. Stepping back when she was done she gave a bow before disappearing along with the other maid, both of them moving with such care and efficiency they barely made a sound even as the door closed behind them, leaving Shiro and Keith alone with the King.

  


“I trust your journey was uneventful. I believe some of our roads are very scenic,” Alfor said conversationally before he reached for one of the cups and took a slow, thoughtful sip.

  


“Your Kingdom is beautiful, it was a very pleasant journey,” Shiro answered. Truthfully he hadn't bothered to look out the window at all, so he hadn't seen much of Altea apart from the castle, but he had read plenty of books on Altea, and seen plenty of pictures.

  


“It is indeed very beautiful. I am proud of this Kingdom, and its people. I hope one day you will come to think of it as a second home. Perhaps Lance can show you around, it would be an excellent opportunity for the two of you to get to know each other.”

  


Shiro's stomach churned hearing the name of his husband to be, which was the only thing he knew about the young Prince. Well, that and what he looked like. Shiro had no idea what kind of person Lance was, if he was the sort of person he'd want showing him around the Kingdom, let alone if he was the sort of person he wanted to marry…

  


Shiro quickly shook that thought from his head. Now was not the time.

  


“I would be honoured.” He answered with a nod of his head. He would have to get to know his fiancé sooner or later.

  


Alfor smiled and as if Shiro had just passed some sort of test he turned towards the door with a gleam in his eye.

  


“Send them in.” He commanded his voice booming around the room even though he hadn't raised his voice at all.

  


The door swung open again admitting the maid, who still walked with her head bowed, gaze fixed to the floor. Behind her was Coran, his vivid moustache drawing attention away from the two figures behind him so that Shiro didn't see them at first.

  


“Sir Shirogane, meet my daughter, Allura, and my son, Lance,” Alfor introduced the two figured as Coran stepped aside to reveal them.

  


Shiro felt his gut clench painfully, his gaze immediately drawn to the young man. The few pictures he'd seen of the Altean Prince didn't even compare to the young man that stood before him. He was stunning, a breathtaking beauty. Even Shiro could see that.

  


The Prince was shorter than Shiro, noticeably so, which surprised him. Although he was unusually tall most Alphas still at least matched him in height. Shiro had never met one that was so much smaller than him. The Prince was toned, with broad shoulders but without any obvious muscle bulk. He had a tall, lanky frame that could have easily made him look awkward, but he held himself with such confident certainty that he appeared nothing short of elegant just standing still. His bronzed skin held a golden glow that no painting or picture could truly capture, it looked as smooth and flawless as the expensive lacquer vases dotted around the room.

  


The pure white hair was a stark contrast against his skin, cropped short and neat though the ends kinked and curled in a way that suggested his hair would never lie quite flat. It looked soft and thick, like a fluffy cloud in a summer sky.

  


His eyes were small pinpricks of deep, fathomless blue that Shiro felt he was at risk of drowning in if he looked directly at them. Twin pale blue marks sat high on his cheeks, underlining his eyes and accentuating the deep blue. His lips were curved in a bright, frivolous smile, unaffected by any hardship.

  


Lance's presence wasn't as heavy or oppressive as his father's, Shiro noted. While Allura's had the same suffocating weight as her father's, making Shiro feel like he was nothing but a little pebble sinking to the bottom of the ocean, with no hope of ever reaching the surface again, Lance's felt lighter and more fluid. Shiro felt as if he were floating on it, and while it coiled around him it didn't drag him down or try to overwhelm him, it flowed around him, comforting. His scent, too was light and warm, reminding Shiro of summer sunshine.

  


_'But that doesn't mean he won't be obnoxious and full of himself,'_ Shiro thought stubbornly, refusing to allow himself to be lulled into submission by Lance's gentle aura. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the feeling wash over him, then away. It was almost too easy.

  


His expression setting firm and serious as he turned to Allura. Protocol dictated he should greet her first. Even though Lance was his fiancé she was the eldest, and the future Queen.

  


“A pleasure to meet you, your Highness,”he bowed deeply, careful to extend his flesh hand to her. She smiled setting a small, slender hand loosely on top of his palm. His fingers curling ever so lightly around her own Shiro lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a swift kiss to her knuckles before letting go.

  


“Charmed,” she giggled, sharing a look with Lance before gliding off to sit down next to her father.

  


Now he had to greet Lance. But what should he do? Shake his hand? Kiss his hand? Lance was watching him, those blue eyes shining with excitement and something else Shiro couldn't quite name. The marks on his cheeks appeared to be glowing, though maybe it was just a trick caused by the rusty red blush growing across his cheeks.

  


He should do something, but while Shiro knew the basics of noble protocol he was at a loss as to how to deal with a noble fiancé, much less a noble fiancé he didn’t even wish to be engaged to. What was the protocol in this situation?

  


Shiro had no idea, and he knew he had been quiet for too long.

  


He panicked.

  


“Your Highness, I'm glad to finally meet you” he extended a hand to Lance, his silvery prosthetic, without thinking.

  


Lance continued to stare, completely frozen. His heart racing so fast he hadn't heard a word of what Shiro said. Despite his anticipation, reading up on the other man as much as he could, and his genuine excitement to meet Shiro, nothing could have quite prepared him for seeing Takashi Shirogane in person. He was tall, big, and solid. His arms looked like they could quite easily crush Lance, and he was so muscular that Lance couldn't help but wonder if it was all real or if some of it was padding. His eyes were cold steel, full of strength. Everything about him sharp and unshakable. He was nothing like the frail, weak bodied Omega he was supposed to be.

  


Lance's eyes darted to Shiro's hand, then to his face and the vivid scar across his nose adding to the ferocity of his appearance. Lance felt his admiration for the man grow simply by looking at him, even as an Omega he was clearly no pushover, and would give any Alpha a run for their money.

  


Lance blinked a few times. He was staring. He was supposed to do something when Shiro held his hand out to him like that, but what?

  


_'Move!'_

  


“It's wonderful to finally meet you too, Sir Shirogane!” Lance gushed. He grabbed Shiro's hand and shook it firmly, without flinching.

  


His eyes were so bright they almost dazzled Shiro. Why did the Prince seem so happy about this arranged marriage? Was he happy to be the one to claim the prize of the untameable Omega, Takashi Shirogane?

  


Shiro knew he had a reputation, and that many coveted him for what he was, and what he'd done, as if he were some item to own. Tendrils of suspicion curled in his mind. Pulling his hand sharply away Shiro pushed them back as best he could, Keith’s disapproving glare burning into the back of his neck, causing him to hunch his shoulders. He hadn’t meant to give his prosthetic hand like that, like he was testing Lance.

  


He had to at least give the Prince a chance, for the sake of his kingdom, and the impending war, if nothing else.

  


Swallowing his apprehension Shiro dug around in his pocket for the small box he'd tucked away there earlier.

  


“It’s not much but I have a small gift for you. I hope it is to your liking,” Shiro said, presenting the sleek, black jewellery box to Lance with a slight bow.

  


“Oh, how thoughtful. You shouldn't have,” Lance beamed reaching for the box without a hint of hesitation.

  


“Thank you,” he added as he gripped the box gently, his fingertips brushing against Shiro's hand. Shiro did not let go.

  


It had been his father’s idea. It was only polite to take some sort of gift to his fiancé. However they didn’t have the money to spend on frivolous gifts, not when the people of their kingdom needed it more so they had to give something of their own instead. Something Shiro did not want to give.

  


“Sir Shirogane?” Lance looked up at him dark eyes soft with confusion. Shiro only then noticed how tightly he was holding the box.

  


“Sorry, take it,”Shiro said quickly thrusting the box forward with more force than was really needed making Lance stumble slightly.

  


The young Prince kept his cool. Righting himself he quickly regained his composure taking the box with a benign smile as if nothing unusual had happened.

  


Lance opened the box, the curve of his long, slender fingers making the simple action appear graceful. Shiro looked away.

  


“It's beautiful,” Lance gasped, and at the very least, to Shiro, it sounded like he truly meant it. A delicate, oval silver locket sat on a velvet black cushion that made the silver appear to shine brighter. The face of the locket was engraved with an intricate knot of twisting, twirling lines around the edge, while the centre remained free save for a pair of watchful eyes, and a thin line of a mouth, partially open to reveal a hint of sharp teeth. It could have been a lion, or perhaps a bear, Lance wasn't sure. Maybe it was an animal that only appeared in Shiro's kingdom, but the eyes, set with tiny, silver blue jewels, seemed almost alive.

  


Lance wanted to ask about it, he wanted to put the locket on right then, but a sharp cough from the King brought him back to his senses. Lance snapped the box shut with a clap that echoed loudly around the silent room.

  


“I shall treasure it,” Lance promised, the box cradled in his hand, clutched against his chest.

  


“Come, let us sit. Have you tried the tea yet?” Lance offered as he moved towards the sofas. Shiro following him.

  


“Not yet,” Shiro answered honestly as he took a seat on the sofa next to Lance. They sat stiffly next to each other, sitting as far apart as they could without making it seem awkward, or cause offence.

  


Lance set the jewellery box down on the corner of the coffee table, his gaze fixed on the teapot at the centre of the table. Shiro was right next to him, close.

  


_'Ok play it cool.'_ Lance scolded himself. Now was not the time to lose his nerve.

  


“My, that is a very generous gift, there was no need,” Alfor said approvingly glancing at the box for a moment before looking to the two men, giving them a firm nod.

  


“Now Coran didn't you mention something about cake earlier? Won't you go ask one of the maids to bring some, then we can have a nice chat over tea and cake, get to know each other properly,” Alfor suggested.

  


“That's a splendid idea your Majesty. I'll go do that right now, Keith my boy why don't you come with me? I can give you a little tour of the castle while we’re at it,” Coran cheered bustling over to the part Galran guard who'd been doing a good job of staying silent and unnoticed until then.

  


“Uh….” Keith glanced towards Shiro urgently, his eyes wide and pleading.

  


“I think that’s a great idea,” Shiro agreed, ignoring the look of betrayal Keith shot him. It would be rude to insist that Keith stay at his side, it would be as if he were saying he did not feel safe here.

  


“Very well,”Keith ground out stiffly between gritted teeth giving a sharp bow before he left the room with Coran.

  


“Now then, Sir Shirogane, why don't you tell us a little more about yourself? We've heard all the stories, but no one really knows what's true, and what isn't,” Allura questioned gleefully, leaning forward in her seat, shooting her brother a meaningful look before turning her gaze back to Shiro.

  


Shiro smiled a forced, tight smile his eyes growing cold and distant in a knee jerk reaction he had no control over. It was always the same. Everyone always wanted to know the story, the real story, right from the horse’s mouth.

  


“Allura! I really don’t think Sir Shirogane wants to talk about that stuff right now, he’s only just arrived, he's probably tired from the journey.” Lance admonished his sister, surprising Shiro.

  


Even Alfor gazed at Shiro expectantly with a calm, neutral expression. Waiting. He sat a little straighter, his gaze flicking to Lance for a moment with a shadow of disapproval. Shiro had been around nobility long enough to see it, even though the look lasted for less than a second. Lance had stepped out of line admonishing his sister like that, in front of a guest.

  


Allura didn't look the least bit phased by her brother's words, her sparkling eyes still focused on Shiro.

  


Turning away from the burning gaze of the pair sitting across from him Shiro glanced at Lance out of the corner of his eye, taking him in. He was leaning forward slightly, fixing Allura with a stubborn glare, oblivious to his Father's irritation. But Shiro could see it in his posture, the twist in the corner of his mouth, and the way he squeezed his hands together on his lap. Lance wanted to know, just as badly as his sister and his father. Shiro appreciated the sentiment even if he was more than likely only doing it to earn brownie points.

  


“It's fine. I have nothing to hide regarding my time held prisoner by the Galra,” Shiro answered evenly. He would have to talk about it sooner or later. He was marrying the Prince of Altea, marrying into the Royal family. He no longer had the luxury of secrets.

  


Lance turned to Shiro his expression almost guilty, but curious. Just as eager to hear the whole sordid tale. Of course.

  


“I was their prisoner for just over a year, forced to fight in their gladiator ring for survival. It was kill or be killed. If you were weak you died, if you showed mercy you died. I killed many people for the sake of my own survival, I'm not proud of that.” Shiro paused, taking a deep breath, his tone wavering for just a moment. No matter how he tried not to think about it, memories of his time in the ring surfaced whenever he spoke about it, the sounds, the smell. He could still taste the blood. Always so much blood.

  


“And your arm?” Lance interrupted the silence, distracting the others from Shiro's long pause. “Sorry,” Lance added, shrinking into his seat as Shiro fixed him with a wide eyed look.

  


Shiro shook his head, giving a small smile.

  


“I lost my arm during a fight. By then I was already making a name for myself, and the Galra had taken a liking to me, kind of like how one might have a... favourite hunting dog I suppose,” Shiro said flexing the fingers of his prosthetic hand.

  


“I won the fight even with the loss of my arm. Ordinarily they would have put me down regardless of my win, after all who wants a lame dog? But by then I had given them enough entertainment and I had a bit of a following….so they took pity on me,” he frowned. Pity wasn't exactly the right word but it was as close as he could get. He couldn't blame Alfor for suppressing a chuckle at his choice of words.

  


“So they kept me alive, and gave me a new arm...with a few extras,” Shiro grimaced.

  


“After my escape I got rid of the arm, and had this one made for me with no hidden extras. And we gained some valuable insights into Galra technology by analysing the other arm. So it wasn't a total loss,” Shiro chuckled dryly.

  


“Ah yes, Coran spoke very highly of the detailed notes your people made. He's having the time of his life analysing the arm himself,” Alfor grinned.

  


Shiro's expression remained unchanged. That Galra arm had been used as a chip in the negotiation for the alliance, and the wedding, given to Altea as if it were his dowry. Shiro had no emotional attachment to the arm, in fact he was glad to be rid of it, but the whole exchange left a bad taste in his mouth regardless.

  


“I'm sure with your technological advancement your people will be able to garner far more information,” Shiro bowed his head modestly.

  


Alfor answered with with a beguiling smile, one that might have easily been mistaken for a kind, benign ruler. But Shiro saw the steel in his eyes. Alfor hadn't missed a thing, nor had he fallen for Shiro's act.

  


“Can you feel things with it?”

  


The question bought Shiro out of his staring match with the King with a jarring motion.

  


“Pardon?” Shiro turned to Lance genuinely caught off guard.

  


“Sorry, I didn't mean to...” Lance shrank back under Shiro gaze, taking his surprised for offence.

  


“I was just wondering if you have a sense of touch still, if you can tell if something is hot or cold, or how soft someone's skin is, that sort of thing,” Lance spoke quickly, stumbling over his words.

  


It was a question Shiro had not been asked before. Most would question what he could do with his arm, if he could crush things with his bare hand, as if the prosthetic somehow made him super human. Others would ask what his Galra arm had been able to do and would laugh at the fact he gave up such a powerful weapon, as if Shiro hadn't lost a part of himself to obtain it. No one had ever asked if he could still do something as simple as feel.

  


“I can tell when I'm holding something, although I think that's more psychological. I can see something is in my hand so my mind tells me it's there and I can feel it….but I cannot sense heat or anything like that.” Shiro answered.

  


“I'm sorry,” Lance said again looking down at his own hand thoughtfully as he flexed his fingers. It was the hand he'd use to shake hands with Shiro with, but whatever it was that was on his mind this time he choose to keep it to himself.

  


The cake arrived shortly after that, interrupting the air of awkwardness that had settled in the room. The dessert was served on small, decorative palates, with tiny silver forks. It was probably a very fine dessert, but Shiro could hardly taste a thing. They spent the rest of the time in polite, strained conversation, the light clink of the fork against the plate as they ate seeming deafening.

  


“Well then I'm sorry to leave you so soon but I'm afraid I have matters to attend to,” Alfor announced as he set his empty plate down, signalling an end to their little respite. “Sir Shirogane I'm sure you would appreciate some time to settle in and make yourself at home.”

  


“I can show Sir Shenanigan to his room,” Lance offered bouncing to his feet, proper etiquette forgotten in his excitement.

  


Alfor shook his head.

  


“One of the maids will do that,” he said his tone conveying exactly how he felt about Lance's suggestion. It was not a job for a Prince.

  


“You will need to prepare for dinner tonight,” he said towards Lance, fixing his son with a hard look for a moment before turning back to Shiro. “We have a feast planned to celebrate your arrival, and of course you will be the guest of honour,” he said with a smile.

  


“This will be a family only gathering, so nothing too formal,” Alfor added. It wasn't outright permission for Shiro to be casual. It was a challenge, to see how Shiro would present himself given the opportunity. Shiro smiled back, his expression unreadable.

  


“I look forward to it. I hope I might be able to sample some traditional Altean cuisine.” Shiro replied. It was enough for Alfor. He gave a curt nod of assent, and then left the room without any further words of parting.

  


“Come Lance, you heard father,” Allura said quickly ushering her brother away from Shiro and towards the door as a maid walked in.

  


“Very well. See you tonight, Sir Shirogane,” Lance said with a sharp nod of his head to Shiro as he left.

  


Shiro answered with a low nod of his own head, waiting until Lance was out out sight before he lifted his head again and turned his attention to the waiting maid.

  


\- - -

  


Shiro’s room turned out to be the entire east wing of the castle, which consisted of more rooms than he cared to count. He was shown to the 'master bedroom', which had already been set up for him, and told he should treat it as home. He was also welcome to change rooms, should he prefer. The entire section of the palace was his to do with as he pleased, apparently.

  


It was enough to make his head spin. The sheer size of the castle alone was enough to make Shiro dizzy, but being given free reign of an entire wing, was more than he really cared to deal with right then.

  


He thanked the maid absently, dismissing her before stepping into expansive, luxuriously decorated room. There was a huge four poster bed, that looked like it could sleep an entire family, and the usual collection of antique furniture made from heavy, carved mahogany. Tall windows ran along the length of one wall, letting in plenty of sunlight. The high ceiling and sheer size of the room made the whole space feel airy and bright.  

  


It would certainly be a more comfortable cell than the one he'd lived in during his time as a Galra prisoner.

  


Shiro dragged his feet towards the bed, flopping down on it in an uncoordinated heap with a grateful sigh.

  


He fell asleep like that, waking only when Keith came into the room a short while later.

  


\- - -

  


Even Lance, for all his flaws, didn't need several hours to get ready for a simple dinner. Sure he had been a bit of a mess that morning, but that was behind him now, he'd gotten over the worst of it and now he would be able to go about his business as normal.

  


Lance had more important things to concern himself with than what to wear for dinner.

  


_'So that first meeting could have been worse.'_ Lance reasoned, sprawled out flat on his back on his bed he stared up at the high, ornate ceiling. The intricate pattern of vines, leaves, and flowers twisted together in a way that was impossible to trace with the naked eye, making it seem as if the design was constantly shifting and changing. Lance liked looking up at the ceiling, it helped him think.

  


' _Sure it could have been better, I could have not asked him that stupid question about his hand, and I should have been more assertive when Allura asked him about his past but it could have been worse…'_

  


So why did Lance feel as if Shiro already hated him? Shiro didn't exactly seem thrilled by the whole arrangement, which was to be expected. Even Lance, as much as he admired Shiro, and maybe had a little crush on the legend that the other man was, wasn't completely ecstatic about the whole thing. They were complete strangers, who knew if they would really gel properly, or even fall in love? There was so much uncertainty around the whole thing.

  


Lance was happy for the opportunity to meet Shiro, happy that if he was forced to marry anyone, that it was Shiro, and he hoped they would soon, at the very least, become friends.

  


But Shiro seemed completely closed off already, there to perform his duty and nothing more.

  


“Maybe he did find that questions offensive, it was pretty insensitive,” Lance sighed.

  


Groaning he rolled over on his stomach. Burying his face on his pillow he groaned again, louder.

  


“I should go apologise!” Lance shot upright at his sudden epiphany. All he had to do was go smooth things over with Shiro, sincerely apologise and admit his mistakes, throw in a bit of charm and they could wipe the slate clean, a fresh start.

  


Jumping of his bed Lance ran to the door.

  


\- - - -

  


The east wing of the castle was some distance from Lance's room and by the time he arrived at Shiro's door he was a little flushed having run all the way there.

  


“Ok just knock….and apologise….throw in some jokes….it'll be fine...” Lance huffed, his stuttered speech not entirely due to him being out of breath. He stared at the door, unable to bring himself to knock.

  


“...I'll just catch my breath first,” he mumbled, moving to lean against the wall opposite the door.

  


The door clicked open seconds later. Jumping away from the wall Lance stood up straight, his hands flapping over his chest to smooth down his shirt, wide eyes fixed on the slowly opening gap in the doorway.

  


Any moment now Shiro would step out-

  


“What are you doing here?” Both figured asked at the same time, one with a tone of indignation, the other with a hint of surprise.

  


The person who stepped out of the room was not Shiro, but Keith.

  


“I asked you first!” Lance shot back sharply. He stared at Keith, giving him the typical once over. His eyes darted up and down a few times, staring openly at the patches of purple on Keith's skin, and the bumps of his ears in his hair.

  


“And I'm pretty sure you aren't meant to be here,” Keith smirked, already recovered from his initial surprise. Lance flushed a bright red, making the blue markings on his cheeks glow, giving Keith an easy win.

  


“I came here to see Sir Shirogane. I wanted to see how he was settling in. Now why are you in his room?” Lance demanded pointing an accusing finger at the other man.

  


“I'm unpacking our things,” Keith answered shortly, purposefully vague. He knew he should probably answer the Prince's question fully, and show the other man the proper respect, but the demanding tone made him want to toy with him. Any trouble he might get into for playing with the young Prince was worth it to see Lance's mouth drop open in a wide 'O'.

  


“Are you...and Sir Shirogane…?” He breathed utterly scandalized, his expression flashing with anger, and a hint of pain. As fun as it was to mess with Lance, Keith knew he should straighten things out before he got himself, or Shiro into trouble.

  


“That's not how things are between us. I'm simply performing my duties as his personal guard. We didn't have a lot of time to pack so most of our things were just thrown together, I'm sorting everything out while Shiro explores this part of the palace, to get his bearings,” Keith explained.

  


“Oh, is that so.” Lance didn't appear entirely convinced but he dropped his arm back to his side, relaxing his stance. Not wanting to make things worse Keith kept his mouth shut. Hopefully it was just nerves that were causing the Prince to be so suspicious.

  


“So where, exactly, is Sir Shirogane now? Do you know?” Lance asked, his tone less demanding, aiming for an air of indifference, as if that would get him what he wanted. Keith resisted the urge to smirk. Lance was just too easy to read.

  


“I'm not sure, he could be anywhere,” Keith shrugged.

  


“Did he happen to say, what he might be looking for? Or when he might be back” Lance asked snippily his patience already wearing thin, though Keith had to admit he was doing an admirable job of keeping his temper in check and not using his status to demand what he wanted.

  


“I don't recall.”

  


“Oh come on!” Lance finally exploded throwing his arms up in the air angrily.

  


“I could order you to tell me you know,” the Prince glowered, jabbing Keith in the chest with his finger.

  


“So, why don't you?” Keith challenged completely unmoved by Lance's prodding.

  


Lance continued to glare at Keith for a moment, not answering, his finger still pressed against Keith's chest. Keith was not intimidated by him in the slightest, and clearly wasn't going to tell him anything unless he did order him, and even then Lance wasn’t convinced he would tell the truth.

  


“You know what I'm not going to give you the satisfaction,” Lance huffed crossing his arms over his chest. Even as a Prince, he did not enjoy ordering people around, and took no pleasure in the idea of commanding someone who worked for Shiro. It would not reflect well on him at all. Besides Lance would much rather someone did something for him because they liked him, or saw him as a friend, he had so few of those. He hated getting what he wanted just because he ordered someone to do it.

  


“I only want to speak with him, briefly,” Lance bargained sulkily in a last ditch attempt.

  


“I'm sure Shiro will be back in time for dinner this evening. Perhaps you can offer to walk him back to his room after dinner if you want a private word with him,” Keith teased.

  


“Do you think...he would agree to that?” Lance asked hesitant but hopeful. He'd taken Keith suggestion seriously. Keith stared at him, half expecting that the other man was toying with him, but the faint blush on his cheeks and earnest look in his eyes suggested the Prince was far more naive than he, or Shiro, had though.

  


_'Oh boy.'_ There was no way Keith could dash his hopes when Lance was looking at him like that.

  


“I'm sure he won't refuse,” Keith answered honestly. Shiro would find it hard to say no to any request made of him at present. Keith might have felt guilty for dropping Shiro into, what would most likely be, a very awkward situation, but he was owed a little payback for allowing Keith to be dragged off by Coran.

  


“Very well. I'll do that!” Lance said brightly, all smiles and glowing confidence again.

  


“Am I free to go now?” Keith chuckled.

  


“I wasn't forcing you to stay here,” Lance shrugged stepping side to let Keith move past him down the corridor.

  


“Why are you following me?” Keith asked as he heard Lance fall into step behind him.

  


“Figured I'd see what you were up to.”

  


“I'm not going to meet up with Shiro.”

  


Lance's footsteps faltered for a moment. Keith continued forward, smirking, but then a moment later Lance's hurried footsteps were following him again.

  


“That's fine. I didn't think you were anyway,” Lance coughed. He was a terrible liar.

  


“So where are you going?”

  


“I'm getting the rest of our things from the carriage. There's a few large cases left so it's going to take several trips.”

  


“You're still carrying all your luggage in? The guards should be helping you!” Lance exclaimed. Keith didn't need to see him to know that he was scowling.

  


“Your guards still seem a bit...wary of me. I can manage on my own so I felt it better to give them some time to get used me, for now.”

  


“Hmm.” Lance still didn't sound too pleased.

  


“I understand their caution, it's really no problem,” Keith added hurriedly. As irritated as he was by the guards ignoring him, he didn't want to get them in serious trouble.

  


“They were all informed of your arrival and told to be hospitable,” Lance snapped. He let out a heavy sigh, his anger dissipating almost as quickly as it had arrived.

  


“So you’re heading to your carriage now?” He asked, diplomatically changing the subject.

  


Keith was relieved. “Yes, that's right.”

  


“The one that out in the rear courtyard?”

  


“Yes.”

  


“You do realise you're going in the wrong direction, right?” Lance grinned smugly. Keith came to an abrupt halt. He slowly turned to Lance, his blush fading from pink to deep purple on his two toned skin.

  


“And you waited until now to tell me, why?” He demanded. Lance's smug grin grew larger. He shrugged.

  


“Just figured I'd make sure you really were lost, didn't want to make you look like a fool.” Lance said in a sing song voice, feigning innocence. Not only was he a terrible liar, he was a terrible actor too.

  


“How thoughtful of you, Prince,” Keith ground out between gritted teeth. He supposed it was only fair pay back for his earlier treatment of the other man. Still it was embarrassing.

  


“Since I'm such a kind and generous host I'll show you the way. I figure no one's really given you a proper tour of the castle yet, considering the guards won't even help you with your luggage.”

  


“Are you sure a Prince should be helping a lowly servant like me?”

  


“Do you plan to tell my father I helped you?” Lance asked still just as smug and confident though at the mention of his father there was a faint waver to his tone that Keith's sharp ears only just caught.

  


“I didn't know I was free to speak with the King whenever I pleased.”

  


“Great. You keep your mouth shut about me being here, and I'll keep quiet about the guards jilting you. Glad we could come to an arrangement.” Lance turned sharply beckoning Keith to follow him with a wave of his hand.

  


Keith followed without a word.

  


The walk to the courtyard passed with Lance giving an enthusiastic tour of the east wing, telling Keith where all the corridors and staircases they passed lead to. Keith was sure he'd forget more than half of everything Lance told him by the time they got to the courtyard, the castle was simply too big.

  


“How do you not get lost every day?” The question slipped out before Keith could stop it.

  


“Oh I used to get lost all the time when I was younger. I had to leave two hours early for important engagements to allow time to find my way,” Lance laughed.

  


“You'll get used to it...eventually.” The hesitation suggested that it might take a while before that happened. Keith held back a groan.

  


“But there will always be a maid, or a guard, or someone nearby. Just shout if you need help and someone will come.”

  


“Right.” Keith nodded. He wasn't so sure any of the Altean staff would come to his aid if he shouted, but it was somehow reassuring to know the huge palace wasn't as empty as it seemed.

  


“Woah! Is that your carriage?!” Lance exclaimed as he ran over to the unfamiliar carriage that stood next to a line of elaborate, ornately decorated models that belonged to the Altean royal family. Next to them the carriage Shiro and Keith had arrived in looked like an old wreck.

  


“It looks so sturdy,” Lance mused rapping his knuckles against the side experimentally. It was bigger and taller than any of the Altean carriages, with large heavy wheels and a plain, dark paint work made to be practical rather than decorative.

  


Keith made no comment, focusing instead on lifting the luggage down from the back.

  


“So this is what they mean by military might,” Lance mumbled rapping his knuckles against the body of the carriage again.

  


“Huh?” Keith poked his head out from behind the carriage, looking at Lance with a quirked eyebrow.

  


“Well I mean our carriages are simply meant to look good, they're used to show off in parade or during festivals. That's it. This thing looks like something you could ride into battle” Lance said enthusiastically. Keith smiled.

  


“Riding a horse drawn carriage into a battle wouldn't be the most advisable strategy, but this thing could definitely take a hit from a surprise attack. Mostly though, it's just built to last as long as possible.”

  


“Lione must be very different...” Lance mused brushing his fingers along the body of the carriage he made his way towards the back.

  


“It is,” Keith nodded.

  


“Is that's all that's left?” Lance asked looking down at the two large trunks on the floor at Keith's feet.

  


“Yup. I'll have to take one at a time, but I think I know my way now so-” Keith was abruptly cut off as Lance grabbed one of the heavy trunks, and hoisted it up as if it weighed nothing.

  


“Prince, what are you doing?” He asked nervously, eyes darting around looking out for anyone that might be watching. He'd allowed things to go too far. Speaking with the Prince so informally, and allowing him to show him the way to the courtyard had been bad enough. Keith could not allow the Prince to carry his luggage, he'd be executed, or worse, for sure.

  


“I'm helping you, normally people say 'thank you' in this situation,” Lance answered irritably.

  


“Ah, there's really no need, and it is rather heavy...” Keith tried, hoping Lance would take offence at his question and walk off in huff before someone saw.

  


“We may not know much about fighting a war but Altean's are naturally strong, I'll have you know. I can manage this much just fine,” Lance retorted hoisting the trunk up in his hands. Of course, Keith's words would have the opposite effect.

  


“Besides my sister is a lot stronger than me,” Lance added. It sounded like a warning.

  


“Duly noted,” Keith nodded grabbing the other trunk, defeated. He would be better off just getting on with things and getting the luggage back to the room as quickly as possible. With the guards avoiding him it was unlikely anyone would see them...or so Keith hoped.

  


Their progress back to the room was slower due to the weight of the trunks, but they arrived without incident, or anyone seeing them.

  


After depositing the luggage in the room Lance looked around, hoping that Shiro might have returned during their absence. There was no sign of him. Lance sighed.

  


“So do you like it here?” He turned to Keith, ill-tempered at having his hopes dashed.

  


“It's very comfortable,” Keith answered, biting back a grin.

  


“Comfortable?” Lance echoed, but he said nothing more. He looked around the room, taking a few random steps, with no real destination in mind. He was stalling.

  


“Does Shiro like it here?” He asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, uninvited. Keith bit his lip to stop himself from berating at Lance for that. It was not his place to say who could sit on Shiro’s bed.

  


“He'll get use to it,” Keith answered. Lance curled in on himself, hunching his shoulders.

  


“Is there anything I could get him to help him feel more at home?” He asked softly, and just like that any irritation Keith might have felt towards Lance frizzled out. The Prince was honestly trying, he couldn't fault the other man for that.

  


“There's nothing that I can think of,” Keith said, his words suggesting that Lance should ask Shiro himself.

  


“Just be kind to him. He'll warm up to you… eventually,” Keith said with little confidence.

  


“I can do that,” Lance nodded firmly, oblivious to the doubt in Keith voice. Lance, once again, was grinning from ear to ear.

  


“Thank you,” Keith said with a polite bow of his head. It was all he could ask for, and so far it seem Shiro could do worse than Lance. Perhaps things wouldn't be as awful as Shiro had predicted after all.

  


Hopping off the bed Lance's expression shifted, his gaze fixed on Keith.

  


“Is something wrong, Prince?” Keith asked politely under the force of the other's intense gaze. Lance's eyes weren't darting up and down now, instead they focused on Keith's face, his eyes narrowed in a way that reminded him of Coran's scrutinizing stare.

  


He took a small step away from Lance. The Prince did not answer.

  


Now that Lance was feeling a little more confident about things he was finally able to take in the other man's unusual appearance. He hadn't really time to get a proper look at him earlier, before Coran had whisked him away, and he'd been too distracted by thoughts of Shiro, until now, to really focus on Keith.

  


The purple blemishes across his skin were eye catching, but really not that unusual to Lance. In a way they just seemed like blotchy Altean markings, nothing too unusual. It was the fluffy bumps of Keith's ears, almost hidden by his hair, that drew Lance's attention.

  


“Just hold still a moment...please..” Lance hummed his tongue peeking out between his lips in concentration. Before Keith could stop him Lance reached out and buried his finger in Keith hair, ruffling his ears.

  


“HEY!” Keith yelped smacking Lance's hands away before he had time to think.

  


“Wow they really are fluffy, like a cat,” Lance gasped, staring at his hands.

  


“I am not a cat! You can't just touch someone's ears like that!” Keith yelped.

  


“Oh come on it's just your ears, you can touch mine if you want!” Lance rolled his eyes as he tucked his hair behind his ears so the were on full display.

  


“I don't want to touch your ears.”

  


“Why not? There's nothing wrong with my ears, they're the prettiest ears in all of Altea, I'll have you know. There was a public vote!” Lance huffed.

  


“Are you serious?” Keith gapped at Lance.

  


“Yes! Is that so hard to believe?”

  


“No..that's not...” Keith groaned holding his head in his hands. He heard Lance huff, probably ready with an equally ridiculous retort. He was doomed, Keith could already see his life flashing before his eyes. What would the punishment for insulting the Prince's ears be?

  


Lance's huff turned into a laugh.

  


“Fine. Okay, okay, I'm sorry I touched your ears without permission, that was rude of me. I apologise,” Lance said through his giggles.

  


Keith lifted his head from his hands, a little apprehensive, but Lance seemed genuinely amused, and unoffended. Keith risked a chuckle.

  


“It's fine. Just maybe ask next time.”

  


Lance rolled his eyes. “You know you're kinda weird for a guard. Even my own guards wouldn't dare speak to me the way you do,” he mused, laughter gone. The ominous pause at the words caused Keith's own laughter to die in his throat.

  


“Thank you, it's a refreshing change,” Lance finished with a smile. Keith felt like he could breath again.

  


“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Keith asked breathlessly. Lance smirked.

  


“Well I can't just let you off that easily. I am a Prince after all,” Lance boasted his chest puffed out in an exaggerated manner that just made Keith laugh again.

  


“But you should be careful of your tone at dinner. Father is a bit of a stickler for tradition, he won't be as understanding as I am,” Lance said proudly his nose in the air.

  


“Dinner? I'm invited to dinner?” Keith blinked.

  


“Of course you are. You have to eat as well don't you? Just make sure you don't show me up, wear something plain and boring,” Lance answered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  


“Of course,” Keith smiled nervously answering with a sharp bow. An invite to dinner was something he had not been anticipating, and while Shiro wouldn't probably be grateful for the moral support Keith already felt like he was failing. He had no idea what the protocol was for a royal dinner.

  


“Speaking of which, I must go get ready,” Lance announced, oblivious to Keith's growing panic. Lance scrutinised the sleeves of the white, silk shirt he wore with narrowed eyes, as if it had personally offended him.

  


“What's wrong with what you're wearing?” Keith dared to ask, partly to take his own mind off his current predicament.

  


“What's wrong with...” Lance repeated incredulously, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he found his words again.

  


“Keith...you have a lot to learn.” Lance turned to smile sympathetically at him.

  


“But don't worry as our guest, and an outsider you, and Sir Shirogane, aren't expected to know everything. You have plenty of time to learn and I'm more than happy to teach you,” Lance smirked looking far too happy at the prospect. Keith gulped.

  


“I, however, am expected to be perfect every time,” Lance muttered his expression darkening. He's spoken so quietly Keith wasn't sure if Lance realised he's spoken aloud.

  


“Well see you at dinner. Just wear something smart and you'll be fine,” Lance said hurriedly, shooting Keith a forced smile before striding out of the room, giving Keith no opportunity to question him.

  


Keith bowed as Lance left, lifting his head only when he heard the door click shut.

  


“What a strange Prince,” he muttered to himself as he straightened up. His encounter with Lance had left Keith with the feeling that he was missing something, but he had no time to worry about that now. He needed to find Shiro and make sure the other man was ready for tonight.

  


\- -

  


Lance made his way back to his room, walking tall with his head held high. Sure things hadn't gone exactly to plan, but his conversation with Keith had been promising. If he could get along so easily with his guard, then Shiro shouldn't be too much of a challenge.

  


It was odd, really, how natural it had been to talk to the half-Galran man, compared to the mess he’d been in when talking with Shiro during their initial meeting.

  


Lance supposed that not having his father and sister there helped, but there was something about Keith too. Keith didn't fear him, nor did he revere him, he'd simply treated Lance like any other person. With most other nobles that would have gotten him into trouble, but Lance appreciated the easy familiarity Keith treated him with.

  


Keith accepted him as he was, and seemed to like him well enough for it, it gave Lance hope. Maybe Shiro would be a little more of a challenge, but Lance was willing to work for it and prove himself to the other man.

  


Now if only he could grab a few moments alone with him, to smooth things over if nothing else.

  


Shaking his head Lance pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. Right now he needed to focused on dinner, and what he was going to wear. He had very little time left to get ready, so he stopped at Allura's room.

  


“Come on Allura please!” He begged after she turned down his initial request for help.

  


“I have to get ready too you know, and I can't be here all through this engagement picking out every single outfit for you,” she admonished brandishing her hairbrush at him.

  


“Aw come on Allura. You aren't the one getting married, you don’t need to look good!” Lance protested.

  


“No but I am the Princess, and I need to put on a good show.”

  


“Yeah ...well...your hair looks like a duflax's nest!” Lance retorted childishly, sticking his tongue out at her before beating a hasty retreat down the corridor to his own room.

  


“Why you ungrateful little-” Allura threw her hairbrush at him, but missed.

  


“Honestly!” She huffed stomping over to where it had fallen so she could retrieve it. She had no issues with helping brother, but there was plenty of time before the wedding, and Shiro would be here for all of it. Lance would have to learn to dress himself eventually, and not get quite so worked up about it.

  


“Good luck Lance,” she smiled down the empty corridor, giving a silent prayer that dinner would go well for him.

  


-

  


“Argh!” Lance yelled storming into this room he slammed the door shut behind him, and almost crumpled at the mess that greeted him. He hadn't tided up after his preparations for the morning. His clothes spilled out of the wardrobe and chest of drawers, spreading over the floor and on his bed. He would be lucky if he could find anything that wasn't wrinkled let alone something suitable for dinner.

  


Now he knew why Allura didn't want to help.

  


“Quiznack.”

  


\- - -

  


“You're not getting changed?” Keith asked looking Shiro up and down. He was still in the clothes he'd arrived in, now looking a little rumpled.

  


“It's just dinner, the King said it wouldn't be a formal event,” Shiro answered testily. Although he'd had some time to rest he hadn't been able to sleep much leaving him grumpy and quick to anger.

  


“No, but you know he will be watching your every move,” Keith warned.

  


Shiro's scowl deepened. He had no response to that because Keith was right. Alfor's earlier words had been a challenge, a test to see if he would measure up to, or completely fail his expectations. The alliance may have been agreed, a marriage that he couldn't get out of arranged, but there would always be expectations for him to live up to, expectations most expected him to miss.

  


“Fine,” Shiro ground out. He wasn't happy about it, but he knew what had to be done.

  


“When did you become the responsible one anyway?” He griped rummaging through his things for more formal attire.

  


“Oh I don't know. But after hearing you say 'patience yields focus' a few hundred times, it was bound to sink in somewhere along that way.” Keith grinned.

  


“I did not say it that much,” Shiro sighed. Back when they'd escaped the Galra Keith had been a completely different person. He was constantly angry, wary of everyone except for Shiro, almost feral in the way he would attack first and ask questions later. It was only because Keith had nowhere else to go, and Shiro felt that he owed the young man his life, that Keith had even stuck around.

  


Despite Keith’s initial behaviour having Keith around had been a blessing for Shiro. Keith gave him something to focus on, someone to help. Getting Keith to reign in his anger, helping him to adjust to a society that was not as violent as the Galra, gave Shiro something else to focus on, prevented him for thinking too much about his time in the Gladiator ring. And when Keith’s anger became too much, sparring with him had been excellent stress relief.

  


He was proud of the man Keith had become, even if that man was now reprimanding him at every turn. Why couldn't he just allow Shiro to be miserable about the whole situation in peace?

  


“The Prince was here earlier you know,” Keith mentioned, as if in passing, causing Shiro to flinch. Taking his own advice Shiro took another breath, and gave a small hum of acknowledgement.

  


“Oh really, what did he want?” Shiro asked trying not to let the disdain show in his voice.

  


“He wanted to see you, just to talk. He showed me the way to the courtyard and helped me carry your things, even after I told him you wouldn't be back for a while.”

  


“Did he now? Was that all?” Shiro said, unimpressed. Why should he be surprised at basic manners?

  


“He seemed to like the carriage, said it looked sturdy enough to ride into battle,” Keith chuckled in a tone that was amused, but not unkind. Shiro couldn't help the twitch at the corner of his mouth at that. It was rather a funny image.

  


“He doesn't seem too bad you know, a little...” Keith paused searching for the right word, one that wouldn't pain Lance in too negative a light, “haughty maybe, but not the tyrannical spoiled brat you were expecting.”

  


“It's not even been a day, give it time,” Shiro replied flatly. He was not convinced.

  


“See how dinner goes. Just give him a chance, okay?” Keith gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. Shiro would just have to see for himself.

  


“Now do you need help getting dressed for dinner, or do you think you can manage that much on your own?” Keith teased. Shiro answered him by hitting him over the head with the shirt he was holding.

  


\- - - -

  


Lace was rescued from his wardrobe issues with the help of three of his personal maids. After stumbling out of his room, crying for help, they’d rushed to his aid. Together the three women calmed him down, picked out and pressed and outfit for him, and then got him dressed and ready with plenty of time to spare.

  


“You look very handsome, Highness,” Phyrra giggle while Amaara and Sheera looked on with warm, encouraging smiles. They'd settled on a simple white shirt with big sleeves, paired with a smart blue waist coat decorated with an intricate, twisting silver embroidery. A pair of dark, smart pants finished the look making him look casual, yet regal.

  


“Are you sure this isn't too….plain?” Lance worried choosing his words carefully as he frowned at his reflection.

  


“Not at all,” the three young women assured him in unison. Lance got along well with the palace staff, he treated them like friends and in return he knew they were always honest with him. His personal maids especially were like sisters. They'd picked out the outfit knowing what would look good on him, and knowing he'd want to impress.

  


Still, Lance felt the outfit was missing something. He scowled at his reflection again, turning at first to the left, then the right.

  


“The locket!” He exclaimed remembering the gift Shiro had given him. He spun away from the mirror, hurrying over to his dresser to grab the small jewellery box.

  


“Oh is that new?” Amaara stepped towards Lance curiously peeking over his shoulder.

  


“Was it a gift from Sir Shirogane?” Sheera, ever the perceptive one, grinned suggestively. Lance flushed as he opened the box, ignoring her intent gaze.

  


“Oh, how pretty!” Phyrra gasped, her attention focused on the locket.

  


“But what is that ...thing meant to be?” Sheera scowled narrowing her eyes at the design.

  


“I'm not sure….but I wonder if I'd be able to see one if I went to Lione,” Lance mused running a finger over the etched design tracing the bumps and grooves.

  


“So it was a gift from Sir Shirogane,” Sheera crowed making Lance blush again.

  


“Well whatever manner of creature it's meant to be I'm sure it will look lovely with your outfit. Would you like me to put it on Highness?” Amaara cut in.

  


“Please,” Lance nodded handing the locket over, before turning his back to her.

  


“So have either of you...seen….Sir Shirogane?” Lance asked attempting to sound nonchalant as Amaara securely fixed the clasp, and adjusted the slender silver chain around Lance's neck until it was sitting just right.

  


“None of us have been to the east wing today. I believe Tali showed him to his room,” Phyrra answered, looking to the other two women as she spoke, who both nodded in confirmation.

  


“Oh…” Lance sighed, failing to hide his disappointment.

  


“His Majesty has appointed several maids and guards to run the east wing. Sir Shirogane will be well accommodate for,” Sheera attempted to reassure him.

  


“I know. But I worry, I fear some of the staff may be a bit wary of Sir Shirogane's guard and might, unintentionally, avoid them,” Lance said absently avoiding any of the women's gaze for if he met their eye they would know he'd already been to the east wing.

  


“That guard is quite unusual,” Amaara nodded. The other two smiled knowingly but said nothing.

  


“Maybe you three could have a word with the others? You know just let them know that Keith isn't that scary, as Sir Shirogane's guard he has his trust so there's nothing to fear. I'm sure you three could persuade the guards to be a little nicer too,” Lance grinned suggestively causing the three women to laugh.

  


“We'll see what we can do, but for now, Highness, you have a dinner date to attend,” Phyrra reminded him, ushering Lance out the door the two other women close behind her.

  


“Thank you!” Lance paused for a moment to give a nod of thanks to each of the women before he hurried down the corridor, the silver locket bouncing against his chest as he ran.

  


\- - - - -

  


In the end Shiro settled on his informal military outfit, a fitted black jacket with many silver buttons, tight grey trousers, and black leather boots that clung to his calves. It was a step up in formality compared to the comfortable travelling clothes he'd been wearing, but less formal that the full uniform bedecked in silver epaulettes and medals. It was a crisp, well tailored outfit that made him look smart and relatively important. It should go down well.

  


“Are you trying to pick a fight?” Keith questioned with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

  


“No, of course not,” Shiro answered bluntly, avoiding Keith's eye. Sure wearing a military uniform to a simple dinner might raise some eyebrows, but it was Lione's casual uniform, made for just such occasions. If the Altean's couldn't understand that, well then tough.

  


“What about you, you’re still in your uniform,” Shiro shot back.

  


Keith's grin grew.

  


“Well maybe if you hadn't hidden earlier the Prince would have give you permission to dress as you pleased too,” he crowed.

  


Shiro muttered something under his breath that Keith was unable to catch but before he could ask the other man to repeat himself there was a knock at the door.

  


“Enter,” Shiro barked.

  


A maid entered the room with a bow. “Dinner is ready. I shall show you the way to the dining hall if you wish.”

  


“Thank you.” Shiro nodded. He strode toward the door, Keith falling into line a few steps behind him.

  


The maid lifted her head watching Keith warily. She did not move.

  


“I trust my companion is welcome to dinner as well?” Shiro questioned.

  


“Oh of course sir!” The maid jumped, startled, her face going red. Her eyes flicked to Keith again her gaze cautious but curious.

  


“Follow me,” she said turning away quickly she hurried down the corridor leading the way.

  


\- - -

  


Lance arrived at the dining room first, which left him standing awkwardly to attention beside his chair, all alone. Even as a Prince he was not permitted to sit before the King arrived. After a few moments of utter silence, with no sign of anyone else turning up soon, Lance allowed himself to slouch. His shoulders slumped forward, head lowered. He let out a heavy sigh.

  


He'd only been standing still for a few minutes and already he was bored, and there was still no sign of Shiro.

  


Allura arrived next. Hearing her light, delicate footsteps Lance did not bother to straighten up. It was only Allura. She smiled approvingly at him as she passed, to which Lance replied by pulling a face. He still hadn't forgiven her for abandoning him.

  


Shaking her head Allura moved to her own seat, standing tall beside it.

  


“The King shall be along shortly, please wait here.” A maids soft voice floated over the silence making Lance snap up straight at the heavy footsteps that followed her. A shiver ran up his spin as Shiro's shadow moved over him, the other man passing so close, to take position at the chair next to Lance.

  


Lance lifted his head higher, his gazed fixed firmly forward catching Allura's eye who stood across the table from him. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at her brother. Lance scowled.

  


Keith was shown to a seat across the table for Shiro, but two seats up from Allura, placing him close to Shiro, but away from the others. Lance had to bite his tongue at that, though he kept a neutral façade. Even Allura, whose expression hadn't changed, appeared to disapprove of the seating arrangement.

  


With the table set though there was nothing to be done about it now. Lance only hoped that Shiro wouldn't count it against him. He didn't dare to risk taking a look at the other man's expression.

  


Keith was far more concerned over the fact he was sitting near the Princess, two chairs of space felt far too close. His eyes darted around the table nervously, wondering if perhaps there had been a mistake and he was meant to sit somewhere else. His eyes caught Shiro's, a look that passed in an instant but one that Lance saw. He saw the way Keith's wide, panic eyes locked onto Shiro, saw the way they reacted, then softened in response to whatever look Shiro returned, and he saw the way Keith's posture relaxed.

  


It was a look between two people who knew each other well, and trusted each other completely. Even though Lance had only seen Keith's side of it he could tell that much. He tried to ignore the feelings of jealousy the stirred in his gut, and would only make dinner taste bad if he paid them any mind.

  


No Keith was Shiro's guard, they'd know each other for some time, Lance knew that much. It was to be expected that they would share some understanding and trust. There was nothing to worry about.

 

The silence stretched on as they waited, none daring to speak. The King was late, though of course dinner would only start when the King arrive, so really he could not be late. Lance silently cursed his father for taking his time, he was getting restless.

 

Antsy, and unable to resist the temptation any longer, Lance risked a sidelong glance at Shiro, trying his best to be subtle about it so the other man wouldn't notice. Shiro stood straight, hands behind his back, head held high, gaze fixed ahead.

  


Unlike Lance, Shiro apparently was not at all tempted to let his eyes wander. He barely even blinked, his expression a stone mask of neutrality.

  


_'Well at least he doesn't look mad.'_ Lance thought to himself. He didn't look happy either, but Lance decided to ignore that point. Instead he focused on the sharp line of Shiro's jaw, his strong profile that Lance found his gaze drawn too even though he shouldn't be staring.

  


“The King has arrived,” a butler announced. Lance's head snapped forward, the force making his neck hurt. He kept his gaze fixed ahead his back ram rod straight as Alfor entered the room followed by several other maids and manservants. The King moved to his seat at the head of the table at a leisurely pace, his chair pulled out by another manservant as he approached, allowing him to take his seat without having to pause.

  


Once the King was sat comfortably the staff moved forward, pulling out the other chairs to allow the remaining guests to sit. They all took their seats, the muffled scrape of the chair legs across the carpet and the rustle of clothes the only sound that followed them.

  


“So Sir Shirogane, I trust you found your quarters to your liking?” The King spoke, breaking the silence. The pressure in the room lifted.

  


“It's far more than I expected. You are too generous,” Shiro answered shortly with a grateful nod of his head.

  


“Not at all, it's nothing,” Alfor chuckled.

  


“Keith, I trust you find everything to your liking as well? You can rest easy here, the castle is very secure,” Alfor turned his attention to Keith, who jumped at being addressed directly, and for a moment looked uncertain as to if he should answer or not.

  


“Everything is perfect, your Majesty,”he answered as Shiro's gaze flicked towards him momentarily. It was enough to tell Keith it was safe to speak. He may have spotted several gaps in security, and other vulnerabilities, but that really wasn't dinner conversation, and was far above his position anyway.

  


“Wonderful,” Alfor chuckled lifting a hand to indicate that the starters should be brought out.

 

“For our starters we have ovanut soup, an Altean delicacy. I hope it is to your liking,” Alfor introduced the dish as the steam bowls were set down in front of them, the maids carrying them moving in unison that the clink of each bowl being set down on the table echoed in perfect harmony. After the food was set down drinks were poured, then the staff stood back.

  


“I look forward to trying it,” Shiro replied looking down at the thick, grey liquid. As unappetising as it looked it smelled divine, his stomach grumbled in approval.

  


Before he could reach for his spoon and start eating Shiro caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Lance picked up his own spoon and presented it to Shiro.

  


Shiro paused.

  


“Sir Shirogane, there is an Altean tradition that a couple should exchange spoons at the beginning of a meal. It's supposed to tie them together and grant good luck,” Lance explained his eyes bright and eager.

 

Shiro wasn't sure how to respond.

  


“Well really it's a tradition between couples who have just gotten engaged, and sometimes it's done at weddings, so perhaps it's a little too early for that...” he hesitated the light in his eyes fading slightly replaced with apprehension.

  


It seemed like an utterly ridiculous tradition, but sensing that Keith, if he had been able to reach, would kick him under the table if Shiro refused, Shiro decided he may as well go along with it. What harm was there?

  


“I would be honoured,” Shiro took the spoon from him before Lance could withdraw it. With his other hand he picked up the spoon beside his dish, and offering it to Lance.

  


Lance beamed.

  


There was more to the tradition. They were supposed to feed each other the first bite of each others meal too, but Lance decided to omit that part for now.

  


Alfor did not comment.

  


Shiro dipped the spoon in the soup, letting it get about half full before he brought the spoon to his mouth.

  


“This is actually pretty good,” Keith said to himself, his whisper carrying clearly across the silent table. He froze.

  


“Sorry-I didn't mean-”

  


“I've always said this colour makes it look like sludge,” Allura smiled turning to him.

  


Alfor laughed. “Indeed. The colour doesn't make it appear too appetising does it.”

  


With Allura's quick thinking any tension Keith's comment may have caused vanished, and they finished of their starter with pleasant small talk.

  


The main course was grilled vasserine, which apparently was some type of game meat. Shiro wasn't sure if he wanted to know why it seemed to be...orange. He notice Lance beside him, eating very slowly and deliberately, discreetly showing Shiro which of the many utensils he should be using, how to use them. Though he was reluctant to admit it, Shiro was grateful for the help. Left to his own devices he would have picked the wrong utensil.

  


With the main dish came another type of drink and more small talk, which was mostly comments about the food.

 

Dessert was a fragrant juniberry cake, shaped like the flower that gave it it's name. It looked like a work of art, almost too good to eat. It was eaten with just as much care as the main course and after washing it down with a fine wine dinner was over.

 

“I do hope you've enjoyed the meal. Let the staff know if you ever fancy something a little more familiar. If you can give them the idea of the taste and general ingredients they'll be able to whip something up for you,” Alfor said to Shiro, wrapping up the conversation. The King then excused himself.

  


“Well I think I shall retire for the evening as well. Good night.” Allura followed shortly after with a quick nod to both Shiro and Keith, and a wink to Lance before she left.

  


Shiro stood from his chair then, excuses already prepare on his tongue so he could make his escape but before he could say anything, Lance beat him to it.

  


“Sir Shirogane, would you allow me to walk you to your room?”

  


Shiro stared at the Prince for a moment, wondering if he'd heard correctly.

  


“I-”

  


“I think it's a great idea, His Highness can help you gain your bearings,” Keith interrupted before Shiro could refuse.

  


“How very kind of you, that would be lovely,” Shiro ground out shooting Keith a burning look before he tuned his attention back to Lance. At least he would have Keith with him for this, after all Keith was staying in the East wing too.

  


“Miss, do you think one of the guards would be willing to show me around the perimeter of the castle grounds now? I'd like to see a little more of the area before I head back to my room” Keith asked addressing a nearby maid, dashing Shiro hopes of any moral support.

  


“Of course Sir!” The maid squeaked, startled at being addressed. Though she appeared nervous she gave a polite bow and a smile before beckoning Keith to follow her.

  


“This way.” Lance gentle tone snapped Shiro out of his blind panic, drawing his attention to the young Prince who couldn't quite meet his gaze, his blue eyes moving quickly not focusing on one point for too long.

  


He almost felt sorry for the other man but the glint of silver around the Prince's neck soured his mood. It looked good on him too, which irritated Shiro further.

  


Giving a curt nod, Shiro fixed his gaze as some point above the Prince's head and silently followed him.

  


They walked down the wide corridors in a tense, anxious silence, with Shiro lingering a few steps behind Lance because that seemed like the proper thing to do. Lance was the Prince after all.

  


Noticing Shiro's slower pace Lance shortened his own strides, attempting to fall into step beside the other man. Shiro responded by shortening his own pace, going slower. They repeated the same little dance several times, until they'd almost come to a standstill, all still without saying a word, before Shiro finally gave in.

  


They fell into step, walking side by side, though thanks to the wide corridors there was still a vast chasm of space between them, with only the sounds of their footsteps to cover the silence, both too nervous to be the first to speak.

  


Shiro, obstinate as ever, refused to speak. It would be rude of him to speak first, or address the Prince directly, he reasoned, but it was just an excuse. He was afraid of what might come out if he spoke now that he was alone with Lance and the King's suffocating presence wasn't there to keep him from speaking his mind.

  


Lance still needed to apologise, but how did he bring up his earlier transgression without insulting, or hurting Shiro's feelings again? He fidgeted as he walked, clenching his jaw as he tried to hold back the words. He had a certain talent for saying the wrong thing, speaking before thinking. Lance needed to proceed with caution. But they were almost back to Shiro's room. At this rate he would miss his chance to apologise, and a late apology was almost as worse as no apology at all.

  


It had to be tonight.

  


“So what did you really think of the food? You can be honest.” Lance spoke, the question bursting out in a babble of words that ran together.

  


Shiro only just managed to catch what he'd said.

  


“I honestly enjoyed the food, it was an interesting experience.” He answered truthfully.

  


“Oh good, that's good,” Lance nodded, his speech stilted. Dammit. He took a deep breath, pausing for a moment causing Shiro to stumble as he too came to a stop. Lance would have found it funny how the other man was shadowing him if he didn't feel like his heart was about to explode.

  


“I'm sorry, for what I said earlier.” Lance said. He spoke clearly, sincerely, his sharp blue eyes fixed steadily on Shiro.

  


“For….what?” Shiro stared back at him blankly, taken aback by the apology. He had no idea what the other man was apologising for.

  


Lance flushed, looking away he hung his head with a look of shame.

  


“When we first met, and Allura asked you about your past, and then I asked that stupid question about your hand . It was rude and very insensitive of me. I'm sorry, Sir Shirogane, I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable.” He sounded so miserable Shiro could do nothing but take his apology to heart.

  


Shiro was used to invasive questions, there were always questions. He hadn't though much about Lance's beyond the fact that it was something no one had ever asked before. Lance was being so hard on himself, and so sincere it was clear he wasn't just trying to suck up. Maybe Shiro could give him just a bit of a break.

  


“It's in the past. Don't worry about it,” he said kindly his hand twitching at his side tempted for a moment to rest it on Lance's shoulder in an expression of comfort, which he immediately thought better of.

  


“I've been asked far worse, and I've even had people just walk up to me and touch my arm without asking. You're question wasn't hurtful.”

  


Lance flushed at that, shifting uncomfortably for some reason Shiro couldn't fathom. He'd hoped his words would ease the other man's worries not make him more anxious.

  


“Oh wow, touching your arm without permission, that's incredibly rude. Well anyway we're almost there, this way, you must be exhausted.” Lance spoke quickly, turning away sharply to march off down the corridor. Shiro raised an eyebrow at that but decided not to question it. At least the Prince no longer looked upset.

  


Shiro had to walk quickly to keep up with Lance now, but soon enough they arrived at his room. Lance came to a sharp stop outside the door, a little red in the face.

  


“Well here you are, rest well Sir Shirogane. Good night.” Lance spoke quickly, and sharply, still on edge.

  


“Shiro,” Shiro corrected him, almost as surprised as Lance at his own words. Well at least the Prince no longer looked so alarmed. He stared at Shiro with those deep, sparkling blue eyes, and again Shiro had to look away for fear of drowning.

  


“Sir Shirogane is my father. I may be the heir of Lione but I am more comfortable being addressed as Shiro. There's no need to be so formal with me.” He said.

  


“Shiro...” Lance whispered his name, his tone soft with wonder.

  


“Then, won't you call me Lance?”

  


Shiro sucked in a breath wanting, for a moment, to refuse. This was too much, already he was softening to the man he'd been adamant to not give in to.

  


“Very well, Lance. Good night.” Shiro bowed. He couldn't say no, and not only because of a his sense of duty. He couldn't refuse when the other man looked at him like that.

  


“Thank you Shiro, good night. See you tomorrow.” The smile Lance turned on him was dazzling. Lance bowed smartly, Shiro returned it with a bow of his own. After a few moments Lance straightened, the brilliant smile still in place as he made his way down the corridor a skip in his step.

  


Shiro watched him go, waiting until he'd disappeared around a corner before ducking into his room.

  


Lance was ecstatic. The whole exchange had gone better than he could have hoped, Shiro had even given him permission to address him simply as 'Shiro'. Lance wanted to let out a whoop and jump for joy, but he couldn't possibly do that, at least not until he was out of sight.

  


The moment he turned the corner, sure Shiro could no longer see him Lance let out a quiet little cheer, punching his arm into the air. He came to a stop and did his usual victory dance, pumping his arms up and down at his side while he lifted each foot in turn.

  


“So, did something good happen?” Keith's sneer of amusement interrupted him, causing Lance to let out a shriek of surprise as he jumped back.

  


“What do you want!” He demanded, attempting to regain some semblance of dignity. He stood tall, his head held high hoping his face wasn't as red as if felt.

  


Keith's smirk only grew.

  


“I just came to check if Shiro needed anything before I excused myself for the night. I trust your talk went well.”

  


“Very well, thank you. And I suppose I should thank you for your help after dinner,” Lance said waspishly, sounding very unhappy about it.

  


“It would be appreciated but I expect no thanks Your Highness,” Keith bowed. Lance knew he was mocking him.

  


“Hmph, well thank you. Being able to talk with Shiro alone really helped.” Lance huffed his arms crossed.

  


“Shiro?” Keith questioned.

  


Lance flushed a darker red, looking away uncomfortably.

  


“He gave me permission to address him as Shiro,” Lance said importantly, his nose stuck in the air.

  


“That's wonderful, you're making some good progress,” Keith smiled, genuinely pleased.

  


“It had to happen eventually, no big deal” Lance dismissed, though he couldn't hide the smiled of delight tugging at the corners of his lips.

  


“Well then Prince, I shall not keep you any longer and bid you good night,” Keith bowed again, seriously this time, before striding passed Lance.

  


“Good night,” Lance called over his shoulder.

  


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